Page 20 of K-Pop Double Life

My phone buzzed. Another text from my mother: Call when you can. Your father wants to hear your voice.

Guilt twisted in my stomach. They deserved better than the quick reassurances I’d been sending. They deserved to know I was safe, that the money they’d sacrificed for me wasn’t going to burn up in a fireworks accident or a scandal.

But I couldn’t tell them about Sang-hoon. That their carefully invested son had fallen in love with someone who could destroy everything they’d built.

Tomorrow, I texted back. I promise.

The elevator doors opened onto our floor, and I stepped into the hallway that would be home for the next three days. Identical doors, soft carpet, the muted luxury of a space designed to be forgettable.

“Your suite,” Sun-hee-noona said, handing me a key card. “Sang-hoon is next door. The others are here on the same floor. We’re doing a head count at six, then dinner in Eun-ji’s suite at seven.”

“Understood.”

She touched my arm briefly—the same gesture she’d made a thousand times before, but now it felt weighted with knowledge. “Rest, Joon-hi. You look exhausted.”

I managed a smile. “I will.” She was one of the few who remembered the name I was born with, and used it when she wanted to remind me I was still that boy, underneath the performance and the glamor.

She moved down the hall to check on the others, and I was left standing in front of my door with Sang-hoon beside me, both of us acutely aware of Aidan watching from his position near the elevator.

“I’ll check your room,” Sang-hoon said, professional and distant. “Make sure everything’s in order.”

“Thank you.”

We stepped inside together, and the door clicked shut behind us.

For a moment, we stood there in the entryway. Me with my carry-on, him with his styling kit, maintaining the fiction that this was purely professional even though we were alone.

Then Sang-hoon set down his kit and turned to face me, and the careful distance evaporated.

“Hey,” he said softly.

“Hey.”

“We made it to Paris.”

“Yeah.” I dropped my bag and closed the space between us, wrapping my arms around him before I could think better of it. He went still for half a second, then folded me into his embrace, one hand coming up to cradle the back of my head.

We stood like that for a long moment, just breathing together, letting the fear and exhaustion settle into something manageable.

“I meant what I said last night,” he whispered against my hair. “About not giving this up.”

“I know.”

“But I also know what’s at stake for you. Your career, your family⁠—”

“I know that too.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “And I’m still here.”

I saw relief and fear and something that might have been hope on his face. “We’re going to have to be so careful.”

“I’ve been careful my whole life.” I touched his face, thumb brushing his cheekbone. “I can be careful about this too.”

He caught my hand, pressed a kiss to my palm. “What if we get caught?”

“Then we deal with it.” I was surprised by how steady my voice sounded. “But I’m not walking away from you because of what might happen. I almost died without telling you how I felt. I’m not making that mistake again.”

“Jin—”

“Joon-hi,” I corrected. “When it’s just us, call me Joon-hi.”